Chapter Four
They’d gone to bed early because what else could they do? She could stare at him some more. Appreciate the way the fire cast a warm glow on his handsome profile, wish her fingers didn’t itch so much with wanting to touch his hair. It was thick and held a slight wave. She remembered how it used to cling to her fingers when she ran her fingers through it. Because she had, many times long, long ago. Taking liberties like she was his girlfriend, never thinking about how it would affect Josh.
She’d become a combination of tired and restless the longer she watched him, talked to him. Deciding she’d had enough, she’d feigned exhaustion and he’d agreed. He took the couch and she brought him a couple of pillows, a stack of blankets, and had been filled with a surge of jealousy at the fact that he would get to sleep in the warm from the fire and she was stuck in her cold-as-can-be bedroom upstairs. Same bedroom that had drafty windows and bare wood floors, that somehow always felt colder despite the thick rug that covered the majority of the floor.
So she lay there, tossing and turning, not tired in the least since it wasn’t normal for her to go to bed at nine o’clock at night. But what the heck else was she supposed to do? Sit there and moon over him like some sort of lovesick fool? Not that she was lovesick. Was she? She had a fondness for Josh that suddenly felt like a little more…
Frowning, she flipped over, facing her alarm clock, which taunted her with that evil red glow. She punched her pillow, fluffing it up, but then her head sunk deeper, frustrating her more.
At this rate, she’d never fall asleep.
Closing her eyes, she tried to count sheep. Think of Kyle and Chandler. Her boys in Hawaii, romping on the beach, running into the ocean…
Her thoughts switched automatically to Josh. Young Josh and young Mindy, the two of them together at her family home, one night in particular after he’d come over to watch a movie and everyone had sacked out with the exception of the two of them.
He’d looked so hopeful, scooting closer to her on the couch. Slipping his arm around her shoulders. She’d rested her head on his strong, muscled shoulder, reveling in the warmth of his friendship. Within a couple of days, it had been ruined. Both of them saying and doing things to each other that they could never, ever take back.
Her memory took a different turn. Instead of going with what she’d really done, she imagined what she might’ve done. What if she’d turned to him and whispered she’d like that, too? Maybe he would’ve pressed his lips to her forehead like he’d done so many times but instead, let his lips slide to her temple? Her cheek…her mouth…
Tingles swept over her skin just thinking about it.
Her eyes drifted closed, her mind floating. What would it be like, kissing Josh? He had large, kind hands. Would he cup her face when he leaned in and pressed his warm, damp mouth to hers? Ah, she’d always loved that sort of thing. Always wished for that sort of thing. She and Marty had been together for so long; all romantic gestures had fallen by the wayside the last few years of their marriage. Her ex had never been much of a romantic, period. Not that she thought Josh was a swoony romantic type either, but she bet he had more passion in his pinkie finger than Marty had in his entire body.
And she’d really like to see Josh unleash that passion all over her.
Stifling a soft moan, she clamped her legs together and closed her eyes tight. Like he’d ever unleash any sort of passion all over her. What had gotten into her? If he’d wanted to make a move, he’d had his opportunity earlier. Multiple times. He probably didn’t want to deal with possible rejection again because who would? She’d done such a good job the first time around he didn’t want to risk it.
Why was she so obsessed with the “what if” when it came to Josh anyway? A few minutes in his presence and she wanted more. Maybe it was all of those old memories rising to the surface. Or she wanted what she’d once thought she could never have.
Things had changed. She could have whatever she wanted. And maybe…
She wanted Josh.
The house went deathly quiet and she opened her eyes to find the taunting red numbers from her alarm clock had disappeared. The heater’s gentle hum was silenced. The tiny lights that were like little dots, from the various electrical things within the house had gone dark.
Great. The power was out. Now what was she going to do? Her bedroom would go cold in an instant. It would probably be smarter if she went downstairs and slept close to the fireplace…
Slipping out of bed, she padded over to her dresser and pulled out another pair of socks, putting them on her feet. She was already clad in her warmest fleece pajama pants, dark green with a white snowflake pattern. An old, black, long-sleeved T-shirt she’d worn to bed for years and her hair pulled into a bun on top of her head.
Ugh. She probably looked a mess. Oh well, who cared? Right now, she was all a
bout comfort.
And warmth.
She opened her closet door and felt around until she grabbed onto a hooded sweatshirt, tugging it off the hanger. She pulled it on, the thick fabric immediately warding off the chill that was already settling within the quickly cooling room. The UGG slippers she’d gotten for Christmas four years ago were right where she always kept them, just under the bed on her side.
Well. Both sides were her side now that she slept alone every night. And wasn’t that a depressing thought?
Oh please. Get over yourself.
Yeah. She so needed to get over herself. If she really wanted a man in her life, she could run right out and grab one. Make it happen because come on. She was still young, in her early thirties. There was still time for her to find someone else. She wasn’t a dried-up, old prune.
Right?
But pickings were slim in Lone Pine Lake. Single, available men in her age range were in short supply. The ones that still remained had a passel of women chasing after them, ready to step in and become their girlfriends, no questions asked.
She found it sort of crazy that Josh was still on the market. He was perfect marriage material. Handsome, smart, with a great job, and he owned his own house. Easy to talk to, easy on the eyes, he had a sexy mouth and had she mentioned he was really good-looking?